Clarity
by Aluminesa
Summary: "Doubt thou the stars are fire;Doubt that the sun doth move;Doubt truth to be a liar;But never doubt I love." A mysterious child is brought up to live a princess. The King's son falls in love with the girl but before our lovers can unite, she is stolen away by dragons. But are they really the monsters they seem? And what secret does this "princess" so desperately want to hide?
1. A Bedtime Story

**_New story. Sorry I've been gone so long, I moved and things have just been really stressful. _**

**_I'm really excited about this story and hope you all enjoy it, it should be a long one. Sorry about the names though, I really just couldn't get behind a prince (Brick, for example) in the medieval ages being named after a piece of building structure that hadn't even been invented yet. (._.)_**

**_Name changes in this chapter:_**

**_Brutis: Butch_**

**_Baefire: Brick_**

**_Boumar: Boomer_**

**_Briar: Blossom_**

* * *

_Once, there was a land of unspeakable power. It was said to be the grandest of all places, filled with riches and gold and reigned by magic. The Leaders of the realm were mighty and proud, a family made of stone and fire. Each one possessed a special magic, so powerful that it was said that just a single member of the family could topple the greatest of mortal armies. Champions from many different countries were sent to the land in challenges. None ever returned and with each new victory the land basked in its perfection._

_But as with all great things there must come a cost. The gods from the North Mountains would look down on the lavish, warm lands and seethe with jealousy. They shouted down from their cold home to the leaders, demanding an increase of the tribute each country that the mountains touched had to pay. The leaders, who had learned to conquer the very air and winds, flew to the top icy peaks were the gods hid and spat fire in their faces. Enraged, the gods placed a curse upon the land, splitting it up into pieces. Then, while the people scurried and floundered in their panic, the Northern gods created a herd of beasts so retched and vile they froze dead the very grounds they walked upon. The terrible beasts slithered down the mountains to the great land and desecrated each town until they reached the castles of the Great Leaders…._

The little princes groaned in unison as the woman closed the book. They reached forward from their seats on the floor to tug at her skirts, insisting she finish the story.

"It was just getting good!" the second born prince exclaimed. The prince drew forth a wooden sword from his side and swung it round in a great show. It smacked the curly gold head of his younger brother who began to wail loudly. The eldest of nine years, with hair like the burning sun and eyes of umber brown, wrapped his arms about his dark-haired brother's neck in a choke hold.

"Enough," the palace maid rasped, exhausted from a day of minding the princes. The charming little terrors were aging her by the day. She had only come three years past her second decade of living (nine, nearly ten of which had been dedicated to the_" sweet little dears" _) and a good portion of the rich, chestnut locks she'd prized so much had already withered into gray strands. She could easily cover it, but had a tendency to purposely let it show when the king was about. The guilty look he gave each time he saw the proof of his children's taxing nature would always be accompanied by a handful of extra coins added to her pay.

Gerdie sighed heavily, gathering up the crying, deceivingly-cherub-like 5 year old with one arm while the other snatched away the middle son's wooden weapon. The eldest snickered then moved to run past her. She caught the neck of his tunic with the toy at the last second, the sword stuck down between the cloth and his back.

"To bed now, your majesties. It's far past your-"

"No!" cried the second son, stomping his foot.

Gerdie sighed again. She hated this child sometimes_ (all the time)._

"Brutis, please," she pleaded, shifting her hip to better balance the littlest prince; Boumar, who had stopped crying in favor of pulling at the bodice of her dress, whining to be let down. "It's time for sleep. You all need to be in bed before your father returns."

Brutis got a pinched look on his face, the same look he got whenever he was about to throw a tantrum. Gerdie readied herself for his screams but was pleasantly surprised when the elder red head, Prince Baefire, smacked the back of his brother's head and gave him a look that immediately shut him up.

"Of course, Gerdie. Please, lead the way."

Ten minutes after the old maid had tucked them in and left their room, Baefire arouse. He glanced over to his younger brothers' bed (both of which had sworn up and down that they were staying up to see Father too) only to find them sound asleep. He sighed and shook his head. '_Babies'_

He threw off his blankets and furs and sped over to the window. Pushing it open, he sat on the cushioned perch and waited. Hours later (it was really only about thirty minutes, but to the young lad it'd been an **Eternity**), when Baefire's dark eyes were starting to droop closed, he heard shouts. Shaking himself awake, he leaned out the window and narrowed his eyes at the snow covered lands before him. A moment later, a herd of large, black reindeer appeared out of the night's horizon. Each was ridden by men in heavy armor, bearing the purple and brass Daken Wolf crest. Baefire waited until he saw the only white stag in the herd before running out of his room and sprinting down the halls and winding stairs.

"Did you see it?"

"Of course I saw it, you idiot! Everybody saw it!"

"Gypsy magic-"

"She was bare on the ground, burning the snow-"

"Bewitched-"

"Shut up, Henry!"

The heavy palace doors blew open from the flurried wind and the hall was silent. The knights already in the palace bowed as their king made his way inside, surrounded by the remaining knights and guards.

A rustle went through the crowd as the first prince pushed his way through. "Father!" he called, beaming with joy. The child halted when he came within a few feet of his father, noticing the large bundle in the man's arms, wrapped in his father's violet cloak. A cloaked figure was trailing behind him.

"Father?"

"Baefire, come here," the King said softly, kneeling to the floor. Baefire slowly approached and when he was but a few feet away, his father uncovered the precious bundle.

It was…. _"A girl?"_ Baefire groaned in disgust, leaning away from the repulsive creature. The men around the King and Prince began to laugh, and the King rolled his eyes. He grabbed his son by the arm and pulled him closer.

"We found her in the snow. Her caretaker was curled around her, near frozen to death, but this little creature was warm to the touch. Isn't she lovely, my son?"

Baefire was about to respond with a rather proud "No!", but when he saw the enamored look on his father's face, he took a second look at the girl.

She was definitely younger then him, somewhere between Brutis's and Boumar's age. Her skin was smooth and the color of crushed pearls. She had red hair like him, but while his was light and the color of tangerines and sunsets, hers was heavy with curls the color of blood and fire. Her features were soft and inviting and a small amber stone was nestled into the skin between her brows. Baefire reached to stroke hard surface of the gem in amazement.

The Prince's little heart gave a strange little jump when he saw the girl's eyes flutter open. Her sleepy eyes glittered, the same shade as the stone in her skin. "F-father!"

"Where…where are we? Nana?" the little girl trilled softly, looking frantically around the sea of faces peering down at her. The cloaked figure behind the King came forward, placing a gentle, weathered hand on the girl's face. "I'm here child."

The Prince stepped back as his father set the girl on her feet, making sure his cloak was wrapped around her tiny frame securely.

"How are you feeling, little one?"

The girl quivered under the gaze of the King. She didn't know where she was, didn't know any of these scary looking men. She bit her lip, holding back tears.

She flinched when she felt a hand graze her shoulder and spun around to see who'd touched her. Her quivering stopped when she saw the Prince staring at her curiously.

"You're really warm. Why are you so warm? Weren't you in the snow? Do you have a fever?"

"Baefire."

"The stone in your forehead is pretty. You're pretty. Why do you have a stone in your skin? Can I touch it?"

"Baefire."

"Please?" Baefire didn't see the look his father was giving him, nor the ones everyone else was sending his way. His attention was solely focused on the girl in front of him.

The girl blinked, staring back at the boy quietly. Slowly, she lifted her hand up, revealing more, smaller stones similar to the one on her face glimmering on the tops of her knuckles. Baefire immediately grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him to observe the curious stones.

A cough came from behind the two children. Baefire's face alighted with color and he dropped the girl's hand, turning away from the bemused look on his father's face. The girl stayed quiet but turned to face the man, no longer afraid.

The King turned to look up at the old crone in the cloak. "What did you say you were doing on my lands again?"

The old woman looked down at the King, her face shadowed by the cloak. "We're wanders. We were looking for a place to stay when we were caught in a bad storm."

"Were you headed any place in particular? Where are her parents?" the questions came from the man standing to the King's left side. Taller than the other men and with a black scar on one side of his face leading from the corner of his mouth to his ear, he was the King's top guard, Newt.

The woman shrugged her knobby shoulders. "Some place warm. Dead."

The King nodded, his attention turning back to the girl. He smiled softly. "What is your name, little princess?"

The child lifted her chin. "My name is Briar. What's yours?"

The King's smile widened. "I am Mjorian, King of the Eastern Mountains. Tell me… would you like a place to stay?"

A murmur spilled over the surrounding crowd but with one dark look from Newt the whispers were silenced. The crone stiffened but remained silent, her eyes locked on her ward.

Little Briar stared into the face of the King, pondering over his offer. Her gaze shifted to her Nana for a moment before she turned her head to look at the boy behind her (who was still refusing to look at anyone but was secretly listening quite intently).

Turning back, Briar looked into the twinkling dark eyes of the Mountain King and smiled.

"Do I get to wear a crown?"

**Review plz! Let me know what you think and if I made any mistakes please!**


	2. Sweet Things

Boumar batted his long pale lashes, staring up at the new kitchen girl in front him with his pleading baby blues. He smiled sweetly and tugged on the older girl's skirts. The girl tried valiantly to resist, repeating aloud the strict instructions Gerdie had given her earlier to not give him any sweets. But the tiny cherub continued his assault, adding in a trembling lower lip. The young woman continued to fight, trying to turn away and return to her work. But when she heard his tiny sobs and looked back to witness those glittering crocodile tears, she knew all was lost.

Sighing heavily with defeat, the kitchen girl dropped a large sweet cake into the boy's hand, whispering furiously at him to not tell Gerdie. Boumar nodded, beaming brightly as he ran out of the kitchen to the courtyard. A devilish little giggle sprung from his lips as he hurried forward, carefully balancing the extra cakes he'd stuffed under his shirt while the cook's latest assistant had had her back turned.

* * *

If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes he would've never believed it. But the truth was there, sitting at the breakfast table next to his dazed-looking brother.

Brutis never paid much attention to the ladies of the court. Ever since he'd been old enough to understand what they were talking about in their little groups, he'd written them off as bunch of senile hags with nothing better to do then sit on their saggy butts and blab.

He'd been walking down the corridors earlier that day with a bag of dead worms he'd been saving, intent on paying a visit to the chambers of a one Lady Fat Lips. Her real name might've been Ferdnia, but after she'd tattled on him to Gerdie two days ago when he'd accidentally misplaced a very pregnant snake (it apparently ended up inside one the castle's chamber pots) and Brutis had lost his dessert privileges for the week, Fat Lips was the only thing he was willing to call her. He was nearly there, only a few more corners left to turn, when he'd heard muffled shouting coming from the wall next to him. Seeing that the noise was coming from one of his father's personal rooms, he made his way to the door and quietly peeked inside.

His father was standing by the window with a book in hand, laughing. Newt was stationed in the corner across from his king. A blonde woman dressed in pea-colored gown with heavy, lace ruffles was stomping around, waving her hands about. Brutis rolled his eyes, identifying the well-known dramatic known as Lady Katherine. She was one of the king's mistresses and Boumar's estranged mother. She tended to wander from court to court doing whatever struck her fancy. She barely ever sought out her son and Brutis vehemently hated her for it.

"Stop laughing at me, you idiot! You've let a monster into your own home!"

His father looked at her in a patronizing manner. "She's a six year old girl, dear. I'm sure I can handle it."

Lady Katherine knocked the book from his hand, scowling darkly. "She's a witch, if not something worse! I've seen the stones on that abomination's hands and face, Mjorian! What were you thinking, carrying it in here like it was some sort of royalty!?"

The King rolled his eyes and turned away from the crazed female to look down out the window. Brutis couldn't see it, but a smile ghosted along the features of his father's face.

"Well, since I do plan to make her my ward it would seem only fitting, don't you think?"

Brutis's eyes went wide. Lady Katherine shrieked in outrage. "You ignorant fool! Stupid, stupid, idiot-"

"I found her at the ruins of the old temple, under the Sacred Tree. The tundra winds were blowing hard and ice was in the air. Yet when we came upon the girl and her caretaker, the tree was in full bloom, bursting with the treasured red leaves that haven't been seen since generations past. It was a sign, Kathrine!"

"_She is magic!_ Magic cannot be trusted if you cannot control it, and you know absolutely nothing about her! That creature will bespell you, your children, everyone!"

Brutis hadn't ever wanted to believe anything out of that heifer's mouth, but Lady Katherine's accusations actually seemed to be truthful.

He'd never seen his elder brother act this way. It was as if he were watching a village idiot rather than the first heir to the throne. Baefire, often hailed as "the cleverest" of his siblings, was following after the strange newcomer like an open-mouthed fool, as if she were some holy deity. Worst of all, he'd been completely ignoring Brutis and Boumar all day. Brutis couldn't understand what his brother's sudden fascination was with the girl (though to be fair she'd only been at the table for a few minutes and he hadn't gotten a very good look at her; maybe she was half-lizard or something, he didn't know). And seeing as his brother had only started acting this way since the newest additions to the castle had arrived, Brutis could only assume Baefire had fallen prey to a terrible spell.

A spell that he would have to rescue his idiot brother from at once.

So there he was, hiding in a bush. Stalking his bewitched brother and his tiny tormenter. They had journeyed to the courtyard and Baefire was showing her the blue rose garden.

"What are you doing?" Brutis jumped at the sudden intrusion, biting back a scream. He quickly pulled his baby brother into the shrubbery, shushing him.

"Quite! I'm forming an attack plan!" he whispered, quickly returning his attention to his target. She had taken Baefire's hand and was talking about something stupid. Baefire looked like he was having a heat stroke.

"…For what?" Boumar followed his brother's gaze. He stared curiously at his very red brother and the little girl beside him. "Who's that?"

"Where have you been all day?! That's the witch who's trying to steal our brother away! She was at breakfast for God's sake, how've you not seen her?!"

Brutis turned his burning green gaze back to Boumar, only to find him gone. "Boumar? Boumar, what are you doing!?"

Brutis scrambled out of the brush and after his dunderhead brother who was making his way across the courtyard to the two red-heads.

* * *

Mjorian sighed heavily as the door slammed shut, announcing the heavily-wished-for departure of his ex-lover. His gaze returned to the courtyard bellow him.

Boumar had made his way to his eldest and soon-to-be ward. He was smiling in a curious manner and offered her a pastry he'd pulled from under his tunic (that boy's teeth were gonna' fall out from all the sweets he hoarded). His eldest however had his eyes locked on Brutis, who'd come running out of the bushes screaming like a madman. His second child jumped on the girl's back, locking her in a chock hold. The King opened his mouth to shout down at his dark haired son to cut that shit out, but paused when Brutis began to scream. Sweet little Briar had locked her jaws onto his arm had somehow managed to throw him over her head. Baefire picked his little brother up by his collar and screamed into his face.

"Sire?"

Hiding his smile, Mjorian turned to face his first in command. Newt was staring at him strangely.

"Sire…the Queen…"

Mjorian scoffed, waving his hand. "Lady Kathrine is not the Queen. Discard her ramblings my friend! The gir l was _meant_ to be here, I know it!" Mjorian walked past the man and towards the door. "By the way, could you go down to the courtyard for me? I have a meeting with the Council regarding my newest child-"

"Sire." Newt interrupted, placing a hand on the King's shoulder. "I was not speaking of Lady Kathrine. I spoke of your first wife and Prince Baefire's mother, Queen Toraline. "

Newt felt his King stiffen under his hand. "What about her?"

"….yesterday, when we found the girl… it was the anniversary of her death, was it not?"

King Mjorian shoved off the knight's hand, his good mood spoiled. Without a word, he threw open the door and walked out.

Newt sighed, dropping his hand. He turned his face towards the portrait hanging on the wall, right above the burning hearth. It was of a younger Mjorian, a baby Baefire, and a breath-taking young woman with scarlet hair. The picture did not show it, but at that time the woman had had a much rounder stomach.

She'd died a month after the portrait had been done. Her, and the little princess that had been growing inside her.

* * *

**Review (please)**


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